


Around the World

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Français | French, French Louis, Language Kink, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 04:45:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6224476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Could you–” Harry breaks off, gasping as Louis leans in to bite the sensitive skin just under Harry’s jaw, a favourite spot of Harry’s. “Could you, y’know, in French?”</p><p>“Could I what, H?” Louis asks, peppering kisses underneath Harry’s jaw and trailing them up to his lips.</p><p>“Dirty talk,” Harry says in an exhale.</p><p>Or, Louis dirty talks in French. Kind of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Harry POV

**Author's Note:**

> hii, so this is yet another pointless fic that I wrote because the idea made me laugh.
> 
> a massive, massive thank you to [Alice](http://intenselouis.tumblr.com/) for translating the french for me. this fic literally wouldn't have happened without her, as i know shit about french
> 
> the two chapters are different POVs of the same scene, so you'll be able to experience the scene from harry's pov, with the french dialogue, and from louis' pov, with the english translations. it's basically two sex scenes for the price of one
> 
> title from [Talk Dirty - Jason Derulo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RbtPXFlZlHg/), because i still can't title fics seriously
> 
> enjoy!

“ _Treize_ ,” Louis counts, bringing his hand down against Harry’s arse again. Harry groans at the sting, heat burning his cheeks where Louis’ been spanking him for so long now. He mouths at the pillow clutched in his arms, rubbing his face against the soft fabric as Louis spanks him again, twice in a row, grunting out, “ _Quatorze_ , _quinze_.”

Louis pinches Harry’s arse instead of spanking again, murmuring something in English too low for Harry to hear in his gone state. He’s already had two sets of spanks but he wants more already, high on the rush of pain and soreness of his arse. When Louis’ fingers drift across his flaming skin, slipping between his cheeks and catching on his rim, Harry whines, arching back and showing himself off to Louis.

“Love how red your arse gets, babe,” Louis murmurs, the roughness to his voice sending a thrill up Harry’s spine. He digs his nails into Harry’s cheeks and drags them down, drawing a groan from Harry’s lips. “You always take a spanking so well, don’t you, love? So easy for it.”

“Love it,” Harry admits shamelessly. He loves it when Louis’ rough with him, working him over until Harry’s crying, until he’s sore for the next week. With Louis’ grip on his arse, he can’t wiggle his hips to try and get Louis to spank him again, he’s just waiting eagerly for Louis’ next move. “Please, more.”

“How much more?” Louis asks, spreading Harry’s cheeks so his hole’s exposed. Harry can almost feel the heat of Louis’ gaze, shuddering under the sensation. There’s not a lot of room on Harry’s cramped bed, so Louis’ pressed up close under Harry’s lap, the soft denim of his jeans soaked with precome dripping from Harry’s cock. “Want me to give you another set? Spank you ‘til you’re bruised? Or d’you want me to fuck you now? Give it to you good and hard.”

“Fuck me. Fuck me, please,” Harry begs, lifting his head from his pillow and throwing it backwards so his hair cascades over his shoulder, hopefully tempting Louis’ into grabbing it. He loves it when Louis fucks him, pins him down to the bed and whispers in his ear about how good Harry feels, how hot he sounds when he’s being used by Louis. It’s even better when Louis starts to lose control and slips into French, the occasional curse word or phrase mixing with his English.

“Turn over,” Louis instructs, slapping Harry’s hip lightly. Harry does, biting his lip when Louis’ moves so his hot arse hits the cool sheets, nowhere near soft enough not to sting a bit. Harry’s cock flops on to his belly, the pink head already wet and exposed from the foreskin. Louis shimmies out of his clothes so he’s completely naked now, and lies on top of Harry, smoothing back the damp curls from Harry’s forehead.

“Could you–” Harry breaks off, gasping as Louis leans in to bite the sensitive skin just under Harry’s jaw, a favourite spot of Harry’s. “Could you, y’know, in French?”

“Could I what, H?” Louis asks, peppering kisses underneath Harry’s jaw and trailing them up to his lips. He kisses him slowly, licking into Harry’s mouth and stealing his breath. Harry moans helplessly, bringing his hands up to squeeze Louis’ arse. It’s feels amazing under Harry’s hands, and Louis’ breath hitches as he grinds back against him.

“Dirty talk,” Harry says in an exhale, nipping Louis’ lower lip. It’s plump and pink and Harry just can’t stop himself. “In French, I… it’s so hot, Lou, you sound so hot when you speak French and I want to listen, please?”

Louis surprises him with a giggle, burying his face in the crook of Harry’s neck. “It might sound sexy to you, love, but it’s awkward for me. French isn’t a sexy language.”

“Please, Lou,” Harry says; he’s not above begging. It’s just Louis’ voice gets so much throatier when he’s speaking French and Harry’s always wondered what dirty talk would sound like in French, has gotten off to it thinking about Louis whispering in his ear. He doesn’t know why it gets to him so much, but it does, the filth Louis could be coming out with that Harry doesn’t understand in the slightest, short of the few words he’s picked up here and there. “Please,” he begs, squeezing Louis’ arse.

“Only for you,” Louis says, and Harry can’t help but moan softly. “ _Je vais prendre mon temps, jusqu’ à ce que tu me supplies_.” Harry lets his eyes fall shut as Louis’ lilting voice washes over him, and Louis starts mouthing at his neck between words. “ _Je suis sûr que ça va être tellement. Non, je peux pas faire ça. J’ai jamais dit quelque chose d’aussi gênant de toute ma vie, pourquoi tu me fais ça?_ ”

Louis pinches Harry’s nipple to punctuate the end of his sentence, and Harry whines, bucking up against Louis’ thighs. “Yes, god, Louis _please_ ,” Harry moans, unsure what he’s agreeing to but he knows he wants it anyway. He wants whatever Louis will give him.

“ _Tu comprends pas à mot de ce que je dis, non?_ ” Louis trails wet kisses over Harry’s sternum, between the swallows on his collar bones and down to his nipples. Harry relishes the warmth of Louis’ tongue and lips on his skin, his breath ghosting over the wet patches whenever he speaks. It’s just as hot as he expected it’d be, but now he never wants Louis to stop talking French to him. “ _Je pourrais dire de la merde et tu trouverais toujours ça sexy._ ”

Louis trails his kisses down to the butterfly that inks Harry’s chest, heaving as Harry’s tries to keep control of his breathing. He angles his head up, squeezing his eyes shut tighter. He can never watch Louis while he mouths at his tattoos, the view is too much for Harry to handle. Instead, his hands fly to Louis’ shoulders and he digs his fingers into his skin, torn between pulling him up for a kiss and pushing him down on to his cock.

“ _T’es tellement impatient_ ,” Louis croons, marking Harry’s hip with a lovebite, over his laurels, and flitting his fingers down Harry’s sides. He squirms, ticklish, and winces when it rubs his sore arse against the sheets. He’ll be feeling the spanking for days, and he’ll no doubt be sending pictures of his bruised arse to Louis to remind him of what he’s done. “ _Je me souviens la fois où on était descendus en Cornouailles pour les vacances et t’arrêtais pas de demander quand on allait arriver pendant six heures. Si je t’aimais pas autant, je t’aurais ejecté de la voiture à la hauteur de Stoke_.”

“Lou,” Harry whines, scrambling for purchase as Louis ducks his head and mouths the last few words over the head of his cock. His tongue darts out and catches a droplet of precome beading at Harry’s tip, and Harry’s so sensitive he can’t help but moan from the slight stimulation. Louis could be saying anything, telling Harry how obscene he looks and how much he wants to wreck him. The thoughts make Harry’s blood heat, and he wriggles on the bed, desperate for Louis to keep talking and touch him more.

“ _Il faut que garde la bouche vide si tu veux que je continue à te raconter de la merde comme ça_ ,” Louis says, pulling away from Harry’s cock and thumbing the slit instead. Harry’s breath catches in his chest as he curls his fingers in the soft sheets, trying not to come right then. He’s been on edge since the spanking, and the French has just been driving him closer to the edge with every word that falls from Louis’ lips. If he comes too soon, Louis will stop and jerk off on him, and while Harry will never pass up an opportunity to have Louis come on him, he wants to see – and listen – to what Louis will do next. “ _Je suis sûr que je peux hausser la voix à la fin de chaque phrase pour que ça ressemble à une question et tu me répondras. Si je rajoute quelque Harry et quelque insultes que tu reconnais comme putain ou merde, et tu croiras que je suis en train de t’exciter_.”

“Fuck, yes,” Harry says eagerly, tilting his hips up and squeezing his eyes shut.

“ _Okay je vais juste_ —” Louis’ warmth disappears for a moment, and Harry opens his eyes, pouting. He watches Louis’ body stretch across the bed to reach for the chest of drawers beside the table, where he grabs their bottle of lube. Harry spreads his legs instantly, an almost automatic response, and watches intently as Louis coats his fingers and drops the lube to the side of the mattress. “ _J’espère que tu sais que je vais en profiter pour dire de la grosse merde, Haz_.”

Louis presses his index finger slowly into Harry, giving him time to adjust. It’s barely a stretch and Harry grinds down against Louis’ hand, trying to get him deeper. Louis slaps the inside of Harry’s thigh when he does, crooking his finger inside Harry and murmuring, “ _Faisons semblant que je te punisse. T’aimes ça, non_?”

Harry throws his head back and groans, bringing his hands up to his own hair and tangling them in the curls. With all of Louis’ attention between his legs, there’s no one but himself to tug on his hair, and Harry loves the sharp stinging pain he feels whenever he tugs just the wrong side of too hard.

“ _Est-ce que tu trouves ça sexy? Je juge allégiance au groupe_...” Louis breaks off pushing Harry’s thighs wider apart and adding a second finger. He starts thrusting them in a regular rhythm, stretching Harry out until there’s sweat beading at his temples and he’s on the verge of begging Louis for more. “ _Harry, et ne le challengerai pas sur la question du contrôle créatif, et me reporterai à lui pour tous les problèmes concernant la direction musicale du groupe_.”

“ _Lou_ ,” Harry gasps, as Louis finally brushes against his prostate. Now that he’s found it – not that he couldn’t before, Harry’s certain; Louis has always loved riling Harry up like that – he doesn’t leave it alone, keeps rubbing against the spot in tight circles, sending white-hot sparks of pleasure through Harry’s limbs. “Fuck me, please, Lou, I can’t – Oh my God, please.”

“ _On devrait voir ce film bientôt, et peut-être je te chuchoterai les mêmes mots, on verra si tu fais la connection_ ,” Louis replies, winking at Harry and Christ, Harry can’t imagine what Louis just said but he clenches around Louis’ fingers anyway, overwhelmed with pleasure. “ _Je crois pas que tu seras gêné. T’as aucune gêne. J’ai toujours admiré ça chez toi. Tu acceptes tout, c’est incroyable_.”

There’s a softness to Louis’ tone that would make Harry pause, except Louis’ retracting his fingers to add more lube, and returning with three. He stretches Harry’s rim, eliciting a low groan from Harry’s throat, and whatever was at the tip of his tongue flies out of his head. Even with his mind clouded with arousal, Harry can tell Louis’ getting just as worked up as he is, spreading his fingers to make sure Harry’s ready to take him.

“I’m ready,” Harry says when he can’t handle waiting any longer, too desperate for Louis to fuck him already. He’s practically gagging for it, his cock dripping steadily on to his stomach, between the laurels, and flushed red. “Please, Lou.”

“ _Faut juste que je sois sûr, Haz_ ,” Louis murmurs and his fingers are pressing firmly against Harry’s prostate again for a brief, intense moment. Harry’s back curves off the mattress as he throws his head back, groaning at the heat flaring in his abdomen. Louis’ still murmuring in low French, but Harry can’t focus on that when his sore arse is grinding against the sheets while Louis plays his body masterfully. The memory of the spanks from earlier, of the harsh slap of skin-on-skin and the rough quality to Louis’ voice as he counted out each set, has Harry’s cock twitching.

After a moment, Louis pulls his fingers out and Harry can’t help but whine at the loss. He sits up just enough to see Louis spread lube over his cock, biting his lip as he strokes himself, and then he’s lining himself up against Harry’s hole. Harry collapses back onto the bed as he feels Louis’ cock start push through his rim, thicker than his fingers and causing Harry to moan loudly.

“ _Je me suis toujours demandé si nos voisins avaient déja pensé à appeller la police parce qu’on faisait trop de bruit_ ,” Louis grits out, gripping Harry’s hips as he slowly sinks in further. Harry lets his hands flop uselessly above his head, too focused on Louis splitting him open to do anything with him. “ _T’est toujours tellement bruyant. J’aurai peur si j’entendais le vieux d’à côté faire crier sa femme comme toi_.”

Louis’ hips rest flush against Harry’s, his legs splayed wide enough for Louis to fit between them. Louis leans over Harry’s body, trapping his cock between their stomachs, and presses his lips to Harry’s neck. Harry tilts his head instantly, lips parting with an exhale as he feels Louis kiss his skin lightly, dragging his teeth over the tendons. It’s these moments Harry likes best, when he can just _feel_ Louis’ cock in his arse.

“ _T’es l’homme de ma vie, tu sais_ ,” Louis whispers, the syllables rolling off his tongue and it’s so obscenely hot to Harry, his breath hitches. Louis’ hips start rocking against his, building up to quick, short thrusts that keeps the dull ache of Harry’s cheeks twinging, and the moans falling from his lips. He claws at Louis’ back, the long scratches making Louis’ voice impossibly throatier as he continues talking. “ _Je sais pas pourquoi ça m’étonne que je devienne autant sensible maintenant, bordel, je t’embête tout le temps parce que t’es tellement émotif, mais on sait très bien que je suis limite pire que toi. Putain, Harry, au moins maintenant je peux me justifier. Je devrais juste commencer à dire n’importe quoi en français_.”

“ _Louis_ ,” Harry gasps, meeting Louis’ thrusts as best he can, though he likes this position, Louis on top of him and pinning him down, mostly because he can lie there and let Louis pound him into the bed. “Christ, I’m—”

“ _Peut-être même réciter la liste de courses. Du lait, des oeufs, putain, de la glace. Il y a que les sons qui t’intéresses maintenant, non_?” Louis’ voice cracks on the last word, and Harry can’t fucking breathe, this is so good. His brain is doing a pretty spectacular job of filling Harry in with the filth Louis could be spouting. He’s unbelievably hot when he’s speaking English, but the French puts him on another level. Already, he’s wound so tight he can feel the orgasm building. He just needs something to tip him over the edge.

“Lou,” he chokes out, surging upwards and bumping his forehead against Louis’ in an attempt to kiss. When they finally manage it, it’s sloppy and full of too much tongue and everything Harry needs. Louis slips a hand between them and wraps his fingers around Harry’s cock, thumbing the slit as he strokes it quickly. Harry breaks the kiss as the pleasure wracks through him, and he comes harder than he has in weeks.

“ _Tellement beau_ ,” Louis murmurs between peppering Harry’s cheek with kisses, his hips rabbiting as he chases his own orgasm. “ _T’es incroyable. J’ai jamais vu personne d’aussi beau que toi_.”

Harry clenches around Louis’ cock, eyes fluttering at the overstimulation of Louis speeding up while he’s coming down. It’s another moment until Louis’ burying his face in Harry’s neck, muffling a groan and coming in thick spurts deep in Harry’s arse.

They stay locked in position until Harry’s limbs start to ache from the tension, and the sweat and come begin to feel gross dirty, rather than the regular sex dirty Harry likes.

“That was…” Harry trails off, voice hoarse from all the shouting. During the heat of the moment, he never realises how loud he is. It’s only after, when he’s calmed down and there’s a comfortable silence around them, that he clocks it.

“An experience,” Louis finishes, laughing. He slides out carefully, idly tracing Harry’s hole where his come drips out of him. Harry wonders if Louis’ thinking about a second round. He doesn’t think he’d be too opposed, but he’d rather be on his front this time.

Louis rolls away though, so Harry relaxes on to the mattress and shuts his eyes. “How was it for you? Like, with the French and stuff?”

“With the French and stuff,” Louis repeats softly, mocking. It’s not Harry’s fault sex makes him fumble with his words in a way that doesn’t affect Louis, who’s still as sharp as ever no matter how many times he comes. “It worked. I enjoyed it more than I thought I was going to. I’ll never run out of things to say to you, that’s for sure.”

“What _were_ you saying to me?” Harry asks, opening his eyes and tracking Louis’ movements across the room as he slips off the bed and heads to the ensuite.

Louis casts a look over his shoulder, winking. “A lady never reveals her secrets, love. You’ll have to find that out another way.”

 


	2. Louis POV

“ **Thirteen** ,” Louis announces as he spanks Harry’s arse again, listening to the rough groan Harry makes as the redness of his skin deepens. It’s hot under Louis’ touch, and he spanks Harry twice more in quick succession, barely giving him time to react. “ **Fourteen, fifteen**. All done, love.”

Harry relaxes, dropping his head on the pillow he’s clutching, so Louis pinches the sore skin where his arse meets his thighs just to see him shudder. Harry’s never responded to this kind of pain in a way that doesn’t make Louis want to pin him down and work him over until he’s a wreck. There’s something indescribably hot about the way Harry arches his back, effectively shoving his arse in Louis’ face, when Louis draws his fingers over Harry’s skin and between his cheeks to brush over his hole. It’s obscene, how hard Harry makes him, and Louis can never wait long to fuck Harry after a spanking.

“Love how red your arse gets, babe,” he tells him, dragging his nails along Harry’s cheeks while they’re extra-sensitive. Harry will be sore for days after this, and Louis’ going to enjoy every second of pinching Harry’s arse and giving him quick slaps around their home to draw it out. “You always take a spanking so well, don’t you, love? So easy for it.”

“Love it,” Harry answers, like it’d be anything else. He shifts his hips back, like he’s trying to draw Louis’ attention back to his arse, as if it ever left. The action forces Harry’s cock to rut against Louis’ jeans, and the friction makes his voice tremble as he adds, “Please, more.”

“How much more?” Feasibly, Harry could take another set, Louis thinks as he spreads Harry’s cheeks and slips his fingers between them. He keeps his touches light to keep Harry on edge, and focuses on lowering his voice so it’s exactly the kind of rough Harry likes. He _could_ spank Harry again, or he could fuck him already. “Want me to give you another set? Spank you ‘til you’re bruised? Or d’you want me to fuck you now? Give it to you good and hard.”

“Fuck me. Fuck me, please,” Harry whines, desperation evident in his voice. Louis wishes he could be inside of Harry right now, feeling how tight he is around Louis’ cock as Louis pounds him into the mattress. His blood thrums at the thought of it.

“Turn over,” he instructs, coaxing Harry into movement with a tap to his hip. The flicker of pain in Harry’s expression as he lies back against the bed sheets, and the soft moan that follows, is enough to have Louis taking a deep breath to calm himself. When Harry bites his lip like that, rolling it between his teeth until it’s plump and sore, he’s far hotter than any human has the right to be. Add that to his thick cock resting on his belly, Louis doesn’t understand how he’s still alive. He strips the rest of his clothes off quickly, and settles on top of Harry. The urge to have skin-on-skin contact was too strong to resist.

“Could you—” Harry starts, clearly distracted by Louis dragging his teeth over the underside of Harry’s jaw. It was one of the first places, Louis kissed Harry – other than the mouth, of course – and Louis remembers Harry’s reaction as vividly as if it happened yesterday. The moan that escaped Harry’s lips was loud enough to shock them both, and Louis came to the conclusion that _clearly_ he was a sex god. Later, he learnt that Harry just has a thing for people kissing his neck in that particular spot, but Louis still likes to pretend it’s all because of him. Harry indulges him, at least. “Could you, y’know, in French?”

“Could I what, H?” Louis kisses his way up to Harry’s mouth, and doesn’t even give him the chance to reply before he’s kissing him properly. Whatever Harry wants Louis to do, he’ll ask again. Right now, Louis’ more concerned with tasting Harry on his tongue, their hips rocking together slowly, almost without realising they’re doing it. Everything is secondary to the little noises Harry’s making in the back of his throat, and the heavy weight of his hands on Louis’ arse.

“Dirty talk,” Harry explains when they break apart, and right, he was asking for something. “In French, I… it’s so hot, Lou, you sound so hot when you speak French and I want to listen, please?”

It draws a laugh from Louis, which he buries in Harry’s neck because fuck, Louis has been dreading this day ever since he noticed how Harry’s eyes darken when Louis slips back into his native tongue. He thought it’d be enough to do things like count Harry’s spanks in French, but he should have known it wouldn’t satisfy Harry. He’d do anything for him, of course, but Louis doesn’t think he’s capable of delivering the kind of dirty talk Harry wants to hear in French. Not if he wants to maintain the sex god façade he’s set up for himself.

“It might sound sexy to you, love,” Louis says, pressing a kiss to Harry’s neck. “But it’s awkward for me. French isn’t a sexy language.”

“Please, Lou,” Harry begs, and fuck, Louis has always been helpless when Harry begs like that. He doesn’t even know if Harry’s aware that he’s doing it half the time (that’s a lie, Louis is completely sure Harry knows what the effects are on Louis and how he can use them to his advantage). Harry palms Louis’ arse as he tilts his hips up, and Louis knows he can’t refuse. “Please.”

“Only for you,” Louis says, barely stopping himself from rolling his eyes when Harry moans in response. He really didn’t think Harry was _this_ into Louis talking in French, but – well, Harry’s always been one to surprise him, and Louis can feel how hard Harry is against his belly. “ **I’m going to take my time, wait until you’re—”** Louis pauses, mentally cringing “ **—begging me to fuck you. Bet you’re going to feel so—”** Louis skims his lips over Harry’s neck, embarrassed at how uncomfortable it is to do this. He’s a pro at dirty talk in English, but French just isn’t cut out for it. “ **No, I can’t do this. I literally have never sounded so embarrassing in all my life, why are you making me do this?”**

In retaliation, Louis pinches one of Harry’s nipples, causing Harry’s hips to buck. Harry throws his head back and gasps out, “Yes, god, Louis _please_ ,” and Louis’ hit with a sudden strike of inspiration.

“ **You really don’t understand a word I’m saying, do you?”** Louis asks, keeping up the French and kissing his way down Harry’s chest. He licks over the inked tattoos and makes his way down to Harry’s nipples, drawing the right one into his mouth and sucking lightly. “ **I could be spouting off utter bullshit and you’d still think this is hot**.”

Louis moves on to the butterfly next, knowing that if he spends too long focusing on Harry’s nipples, he’ll never get to actually fucking Harry, and there’s no way he’s passing up that opportunity. His words are clearly affecting Harry too, what with how his chest is practically heaving under Louis’ ministrations, and there’s a constant stream of whimpers falling from Harry’s lips. He doesn’t even seem to be aware he’s making them. Harry brings his hands to Louis’ shoulders and digs his nails into the skin as Louis moves closer to his groin, and the wet pool of precome left by his dripping cock.

“ **You’re so impatient, love** ,” Louis murmurs, leaving a lovebite over the left laurel, and stroking his fingers along Harry’s sides, just feeling the softness. Louis has always loved how, no matter how much Harry works out, he’s never been able to get rid of the lovehandles at his hips and the swell of his tummy. “ **I remember that time I drove us down to Cornwall for a holiday and you wouldn’t stop asking if we were there yet for the whole six hours.** ” Louis chuckles at the memory. “ **If I didn’t love you so much, I would have kicked you out near Stoke**.”

Louis takes Harry’s tip into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the slit and relishing the taste of Harry’s precome. Harry whines his name and Louis feels a mixed surge of affection and arousal blooming in his chest. He clamps down on Harry’s hips to stop him from squirming too much, and grinds his own hips on the bed to get some friction on his cock. Seeing Harry react like this, and feeling him in his mouth, it all makes Louis all the more desperate to be fucking Harry.

“ **Need to keep my mouth empty if you want me to talk all this shit at you** ,” Louis jokes, though it’s lost on Harry. Still, Harry’s hands fly out and grasp their sheets when Louis rubs his slit like he knows Harry likes, coaxing more precome to dribble on to Louis’ fingers. Harry always gets so wet and Louis fucking loves it. “ **I reckon I can just raise my voice at the end of every sentence to make it sound like a question, and you’ll give me an answer. Add a few _Harrys_ and some swears you’d recognise, like fuck or shit, and you’ll genuinely think this is dirty talk.”**

“Fuck yes,” comes Harry’s reply, and Louis can’t believe this is working. Like, he knows Harry can’t understand him and is just getting off to the sound of his voice, but he also can’t wrap his head around that. After, if he ever actually tells Harry he’s not been dirty talking him properly, Louis will ask what Harry thought he was saying. Right now though, Louis needs to start prepping Harry to take his cock because the itch under Louis’ skin is getting harder to ignore the longer he listens to Harry whine and groan beneath him.

“ **Okay, I’m just—”** Louis shuffles off the bed and grabs the lube from the bedside table as quickly as he can. There’s a box of condoms stuffed in one of the drawers, but since neither of them have any plans after this, they can afford to get a bit messy, so Louis doesn’t bother with them. At this point in the relationship, they’re for quickies and sex outside their home. Louis slicks up his fingers and chucks the lube to the side, grinning when he sees Harry spread his legs on instinct. “ **I hope you know I’m going to use this opportunity to say the most ridiculous shit, Haz**.”

Harry’s warm and tight when Louis pushes his first finger in, right the way up to the last knuckle because Harry’s wriggling impatiently, and Louis can sympathise. Still, he slaps the inside of Harry’s thigh anyway, just to hear the way Harry keens as he does. “ **Let’s pretend I’m reprimanding you. You’d like that, yeah?”**

Harry moans again, letting his head fall back, and Louis smirks to himself. He knows Harry better than he knows himself, sometimes, and he’s glad to see that he was right about the reprimanding tone combined with the French turning Harry on. He moves his finger inside Harry for a few moments, and figures he’s probably ready for another one.

“ **Will you find this hot?** **I pledge allegiance to the band of…** ” Louis pauses, adding a second finger to cover up the fact that he’s debating which name to use. There’s no way he can pass off _Mr. Schneebly_ as a French word, no matter how gone Harry is right now, and that could bring the whole charade crashing down. “ **Harry, and will not fight him for creative control, and will defer to him on all issues related to the musical direction of the band**.”

“ _Lou_.” Harry’s voice is trembling, and Louis has to pinch himself to stop himself giggling. Harry getting off on Louis reciting the pledge from _School of Rock_ in French is possibly one of the greatest moments of their sex life so far, and fuck, Louis is going to save this piece of information for the best time to spring it on Harry. He finds Harry’s prostate and presses against it with his fingers, already picturing the shock on Harry’s face when he tells him. “Fuck me, please, Lou, I can’t – Oh my God, please.”

 **“We should watch that film soon, and maybe when we do I’ll whisper the same words again in French. See if you can make the connection** ,” Louis continues, winking. Harry clenches around his fingers and the sense memory of Harry clenching around his cock has Louis’ breath hitching. He stretches Harry out, trying not to lose his train of thought while he fingers him open. “ **I don’t think you’ll be embarrassed. You’re too shameless for that, aren’t you? I’ve always loved that about you. You’ll take everything in its stride, never fazed. It’s brilliant.”**

Louis didn’t mean to get so sentimental, but he’s hardly surprised. Harry’s the love of his life, and Louis’ never been anything but a giant fucking sap. Still, Louis catches himself before Harry starts thinking too much about what he’s saying, and adds more lube and a third finger inside Harry. He scissors them then rubs his prostate firmly as a distraction. It works; Harry lets out a loud groan, arching off the mattress, and Louis bites on his lip as he watches. He wishes he’d had Harry’s fancy camera out during that moment – the unadulterated pleasure on Harry’s face, his body tensed beautifully, and Louis’ fingers stuffed in his arse would have made quite the picture.

“I’m ready,” Harry says, cutting through Louis’ thoughts. He lifts his head off the pillow to stare at Louis with big, glassy eyes and cheeks as red as his arse. He’s a vision. “Please, Lou.”

“ **Just need to make sure, Haz.”** Louis says, rubbing his prostate even harder and watching Harry buck again. “ **Can’t have you hurting, after all.”**

Louis keeps fingering Harry for a little while longer, simply because he likes riling Harry up. He’s sure he’ll regret it next time Harry tops and retaliates by keeping Louis on edge for even longer, but he’s enjoying listening to Harry moan right now. Eventually though, Louis gets impatient and finally withdraws his fingers. He covers his cock in more lube, trying not to spend too long stroking himself otherwise he’ll be coming _way_ too soon, and he aligns himself against Harry’s rim. He stretched Harry out thoroughly, but his cock is still thicker than three fingers, so he goes slow for both their sakes.

“ **I always wonder if our neighbours thought about calling the police on us the first few times they heard us have sex,** ” Louis groans when Harry practically wails as Louis sinks in, the tight heat of Harry’s body so fucking overwhelming Louis can barely think. “ **You’re always so loud. I’d be worried if I heard the old guy in the next flat making his wife scream like you do.”**

When Louis finally bottoms out, hips pressed against Harry’s arse, Louis bites the strained column of Harry’s neck as a way to ground himself. There’s nothing like being buried in Harry’s arse like this, stationary as he waits for Harry to get used to the feeling, but still so fucking good. It’s overwhelming and hot, and Louis’ struck again by exactly how much he loves Harry.

“ **You’re the love of my life, you know,”** he whispers like a confession. He starts thrusting slowly, setting an incremental pace that has Harry scratching Louis’ back and keening with each movement. The drag is obscene on his cock, like he can feel every inch of Harry, like they’ve never been closer. The wet slaps of his thrusts mix with their laboured breathing and Louis’ low murmurs. “ **Not sure why I’m surprised I’m getting sentimental now – oh fuck. I always tease you for being a big sap, but we both know I’m just as bad. _Fuck_ , Harry. At least – at least now I’ve got plausible deniability. Should just start spouting off the French-est words I know.”**

“ _Louis_ ,” Harry moans, the first proper word he’s said in a long while. It spurs Louis on, makes him thrust harder and deeper, hammering his hips into Harry’s and proper fucking him into the mattress now. Harry just clings to him and accepts it all, his voice climbing higher as he gets closer to the edge. “Christ, I’m—”

“ **Maybe even recite the shopping list you wrote for us earlier. Eggs. Milk. Fucking hell, ice cream. You’re only focusing on the sounds right now, aren’t you, love?”** Louis continues, despite the ragged tone of his voice because Harry’s close and he won’t be able to last much longer when Harry finally comes.

“Lou,” Harry whines, angling their heads until he catches Louis’ lips in a kiss, if it can even be called that. Louis lets Harry take the lead there, and snakes his hand between their bodies until he grasps Harry’s cock, jerking him off roughly. It’s barely a moment before Harry’s dropped all attempts at kissing Louis, and is panting into his mouth as he comes, spurting all over Louis’ fist and their chests.

“ **Beautiful,”** Louis says, kissing Harry’s cheek as his own orgasm rapidly approaches. “ **You’re divine, love. Never seen anyone as beautiful as you**.”

Louis lets his eyes fall shut as Harry clenches around him, the sensation enough to send Louis over the edge himself. He comes deep inside Harry, mouthing at his neck as pleasure rolls through him. He stays embedded in Harry’s arse until he’s caught his breath back, and Harry’s breaking the silence.

“That was…” he says, trailing off and idly tracing patterns on Louis’ back.

“An experience.” The English sounds foreign on Louis’ tongue, clunky after speaking in French for so long. He figures it’s time to pull out of Harry, so he does so as carefully as he can, and stares at where the come leaks from Harry’s hole. It’s still one of the hottest things he’s ever seen, and if he weren’t so desperately craving a shower right now, he’d lick it out of Harry.

“How was it for you? Like, with the French and stuff?” Harry asks once Louis has rolled to the side. It’s a fair question to ask, one they always ask each other after they’ve tried something new – though Louis can’t help but mock Harry’s phrasing – but… Louis’ not quite ready to tell Harry what he was actually saying.

“It worked,” Louis answers honestly. “I enjoyed it more than I thought I was gonna. I’ll never run out of things to say to you, that’s for sure.”

“What _were_ you saying to me?” Harry persists, narrowing his eyes at Louis like he suspects something’s amiss.

Louis pads across the room to the ensuite and laughs, winking over his shoulder. “A lady never reveals her secrets, love. You’ll have to find that out another way.”


End file.
